Xyros

By Brian L. Willis

~ Excerpts of the letter from Liz to Josh ~
Hopefully, I can explain myself well enough to earn your forgiveness. My life got flipped upside down the week before I met you. I told you Daddy got mauled by a bear and that my cousin Damon and I became lost trying to save him, but that’s not exactly the truth. Perhaps one day I will explain, but now isn’t the right time. […]
My cousin Damon has disappeared. I have a good idea where he went, and he told everyone he’d be fine, but something in my heart tells me he’s in trouble. Not just Damon. I have a dreadful feeling that something bad is about to happen to me, as well. After praying my guts out, I finally received some guidance about what I need to do. I’m going after him.
I don’t know why or how, but because of that still small voice, I’m sure it’s the right thing to do. I’m leaving early this morning, and I’m truly sorry I won’t see you before you go home. Thank you for serving the Lord. You’ve blessed my life in more ways than you know.
You might be wondering why I’ve given you a rock … well, I’m hoping you’ll find out soon why I felt you should have it.
God placed us on the same dock at the same time, and I truly hope our paths cross again someday!
Sincerely,
Elizabeth Bracken

• Language: English
• Publisher: Archway Publishing
• Release date: Apr 19, 2022
• ISBN: 9781665721141

Brian L. Willis

Brian L Willis wrote his first novel, Airlis, to tell his story. Within a week of self-publishing on Amazon he awoke from a dream of Kirus and Xyros. Taking advice from Hamlet, he enters sleep more cautiously now, for one never knows “what dreams may come”. To learn more about the non-fiction version of Brian’s life, visit brianlwillisbooks.com.

Book preview

Copyright © 2022 Brian L. Willis.

All rights reserved. No part of this book may be used or reproduced by any means, graphic, electronic, or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, taping or by any information storage retrieval system without the written permission of the author except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles and reviews.

Archway Publishing

1663 Liberty Drive

Bloomington, IN 47403

www.archwaypublishing.com

844-669-3957

Because of the dynamic nature of the Internet, any web addresses or links contained in this book may have changed since publication and may no longer be valid. The views expressed in this work are solely those of the author and do not necessarily reflect the views of the publisher, and the publisher hereby disclaims any responsibility for them.

Scripture taken from the King James Version of the Bible.

Cover Graphics/Art Credit: LaRen Thompson

ISBN: 978-1-6657-2112-7 (sc)

ISBN: 978-1-6657-2113-4 (hc)

ISBN: 978-1-6657-2114-1 (e)

Library of Congress Control Number: 2022905873

Archway Publishing rev. date: 04/14/2022

CONTENTS

Prologue

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Chapter 7

Chapter 8

Chapter 9

Chapter 10

Chapter 11

Chapter 12

Chapter 13

Chapter 14

Chapter 15

Chapter 16

Chapter 17

Chapter 18

Chapter 19

Chapter 20

Chapter 21

Chapter 22

Chapter 23

Chapter 24

Chapter 25

Chapter 26

Chapter 27

Chapter 28

Chapter 29

Chapter 30

Chapter 31

Chapter 32

Chapter 33

Chapter 34

Chapter 35

Chapter 36

Epilogue

Author’s Note

Edited by Irene Hunt

Proofread by Jim Oliveri and Sierra Campisano

Cover Graphics and Artwork by LaRen Thompson

Cover Design by Archway Publishing

Xyros is a fiction novel based on Christian ideals and beliefs. Though some

characters are members of the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints, many

of the concepts shared in this work do not represent official Church doctrine.

For more information concerning this, visit: www.churchofjesuschrist.org.

All names, characters, places, and incidents are either products

of the author’s imagination or used fictitiously.

PROLOGUE

They will serve you.

Ben Danielson sat up with a jolt. His muscled chest heaved as he frantically scanned a poorly furnished bedroom. Where was the mountain? Gasping for air, his lungs struggled to catch his racing heart. They had come, just as the cold voice said they would—huge, black shadows materializing from the mist. Ben squeezed his eyes, shook his head, and glanced around the room again. Dull light from a street lamp filtered through thin curtains. He sat in a disheveled bed. Pillows lay strewn on the floor, and the damp sheet gripped his legs and torso in a twisted knot. Angular shadows of a weight set filled one corner of the room, and to his left a clock on a nightstand read 2:27 AM. It all seemed strangely familiar, but the stench of animal sweat and rotten flesh battled his senses for a grasp on reality.

Ben closed his eyes.

Empty blackness from his lidded view churned into grey mist, and once again he stood before a large, waist-high boulder at the peak of a lifeless mountain. He’d seen the altar before, but now, instead of finding Ryan Bracken’s unconscious body draped over the stone, blood pooled across the surface and dripped down the sides.

Ben’s eyes shot open. Shadows slowly crept back to the weight set and slipped behind the dresser.

With practiced speed, Ben snatched the handgun sitting by the clock and leveled it at the rack of dumbbells. Awakened by the feel of cold steel, he quickly cleared the room. He was alone, but his spine continued to prickle. Exhaling a deep breath, Ben slowly lowered his quivering weapon.

What’s wrong with me? he growled. Lifting a thick, clammy hand, he rubbed his temples with a groan.

The nightmares drove away his wife and every woman after her. At age forty-five, Ben’s blue eyes and chiseled features often attracted women half his age, but he learned not to bring them home. His career in the military dangled on a thin wire, and they told him one more lawsuit would end it. Besides, it was safer this way … for everyone.

Ben ran trembling fingers through his short, blond hair. They came back wet, but he didn’t notice. His dilated eyes stayed fixed on the tall shadow clinging to the wall behind the squat rack.

Usually the ghosts of the dead slipped into his dreams from those shadows. The casualties of war—the innocent women and children whose blood stained his hands—were especially haunting. But even they seemed like friendly ghosts in comparison with these new demons.

The Cursed will serve you.

Ben jerked up his gun and squeezed the trigger twice at the door, but nothing happened. He’d forgotten to release the safety. He never did that. In the four pounding heartbeats that followed, a series of rapid-fire thoughts rushed through his mind.

His position was blown. The enemy had him now! … But no one rushed through the door.

He shook his head. No, something wasn’t right. The soundless voice hadn’t come from outside his room. Actually, he hadn’t heard it at all … not with his physical ears. In a flash Ben remembered everything.

The mountain.

The altar.

Giant, hairy creatures stepped from the mist like phantoms. The smell burned his nostrils. The beasts’ thick, nine-foot frames would dwarf the largest of men.

Ben slowly lowered the gun, staring blankly at the scene before his mind.

You will reign. Use the Kirus!

The demons bowed their heads in submission.

Ben’s hand found the leather pouch hanging from his neck and squeezed. The creatures were real. He had seen them with his own eyes when he rescued Ryan, his daughter, Elizabeth, and a few others from Black Mountain. One of the giants nearly beat Ben to the chopper. He watched the behemoth white yeti roar in rage as they flew away.

A smile tugged at one corner of Ben’s lips. Who could stop a squad of mammoth soldiers? Their physical prowess alone would immobilize the bravest warrior. More importantly, the power locked inside the cursed beasts surged through Ben as he gripped the stone; a strength that, if harnessed, would have limitless possibilities.

Ben dropped the gun on the bed and hurriedly untied the leather strap. Carefully upending the pouch, a black, oval stone dropped into his palm. As a kid Ben would’ve hurled the egg-sized rock at some innocent animal. How ironic something so small could be worth millions. He slowly pivoted the dark gemstone. The smooth, glass-like surface reflected none of the dim light in the room. Even under the brightest sun, the stone soaked up any rays that hit it. This was one of the reasons his friend Ryan sought it in the first place.

Ryan Bracken worked for the government as a researcher of the weird and paranormal and had discovered the stone in Canada. For decades the Death Stone had been on display in a History Museum in Quebec, but after many complaints concerning strange activity, the stone was removed and placed into storage. One janitor claimed the stone sucked light from the room. Ryan had a knack for sniffing out interesting and useful information, so even though Ben was skeptical at first, he helped his friend convince the US government to purchase the stone for further research.

The day after Ryan brought the black stone home, he called Ben, excited and out of breath. He’d discovered the stone was a diamond! Ben thought quickly and encouraged Ryan to keep the information quiet, at least until after Ryan was able to search out the stone’s origin. After some digging of his own, Ben found the rare gem—even uncut—was worth around forty-five million dollars. With disgust, he realized that loyal Ryan would turn it in, gaining nothing more than a nice bonus for his amazing discovery.

When Ryan disappeared in British Columbia, Ben worried the fortune had been lost with his friend. To Ben’s relief, not only did he rescue Ryan, but he also felt the diamond tied around the neck of his unconscious friend. The situation was too perfect not to take advantage of. Only a few people knew Ryan had the stone, and—if Ryan kept his word—none of those people understood the stone’s worth.

Ben frowned. Over the last few years Ryan and his daughter had gotten close. To be safe, Ben would have to assume Elizabeth knew, and if she did, in the frenzy of searching for her father, she might’ve told her cousin Damon and those no-name rangers too—a problem Ben would solve later.

When they reached the Juneau hospital, Ben waited until he was alone with Ryan and carefully removed the pouch. Staring out the window of the hospital room with the black diamond cupped in his hands, Ben made his decision. He would do whatever it took to keep his secret hidden. The moment this thought passed through his mind, something stabbed Ben in the heart. He jerked and grabbed his chest, gritting his teeth.

At first he thought it was a heart attack, but slowly, painfully the stabbing sensation moved toward his arms. Ice-cold blades gauged his veins, burning and scraping as if frozen chunks of blood were being sucked to his hands. When the excruciating pain reached the inky-black stone, it rippled as if in delight and pulled something from his body, leaving him cold and empty.

Ben thought about that moment often, and the more he did, the emptier he felt. His only relief came when he focused instead on how he would fill the void with money, power, and whatever else he wanted once the witnesses were silenced and the stone was his.

The clock numbers flashed 2:28 AM. Ben blinked, refocusing the vague images of furniture in his dark bedroom. With a sigh he leaned back against the wall and again pondered his plan.

Ryan struggled to retain any short-term memories. Hopefully he wouldn’t remember being rescued with the Death Stone around his neck, but Ben should act soon, just in case. Infections often stemmed from injuries, and when he was gone, the anguish of losing her father would cause Elizabeth to act recklessly. Then there would be less suspicion when Liz died in a tragic accident. Once Ryan and Liz were silenced, the Park Wardens would be easy. An explosion from their solar batteries would trap them in their tower. And that boy Damon, he loved to fly bush planes—machines that occasionally disappeared in the vast wilderness of North America.

Ben’s heart jumped as if hit with a drug. The anticipation alone of the thrill he’d feel hunting another human being consumed him. He grinned as he unconsciously caressed the smooth stone in his hands. The fact that this time the target would be a close friend and his daughter only heightened the rush. Early in his military career he had tried to explain his psychotic feelings to an army shrink. They immediately placed him on probation with the threat of dishonorable discharge. Lies became easy, and he soon learned to walk their walk and cover what no one else wanted to see. In his heart he was a cold-blooded killer, and he craved it.

An unseen force suddenly seized Ben, holding him stiff as iron.

Give yourself to me.

Ben’s eyes widened in horror as the voice echoed in his mind. His 6’ 4", 230 pound body had killed men in hand-to-hand combat, yet here he sat unable to lift a finger.

The vision will come true.

Unbidden, the dream flashed before him again. The Cursed appeared. He freed them and became their master. With their strength he conquered until no kingdom or country stood in his way.

As Ben watched his future unfold, a feeling of immense power flowed through him unlike anything he’d experienced before, a sensation more exhilarating and addictive than drugs, sex, or even killing.

With a gleam in his eye, Ben nodded his sweat-drenched head. Immediately, the paralyzing grip on his body released. He slumped forward, breathing hard.

Find the girl. She is the key to unlocking our power.

An image of Elizabeth Bracken in a white dress appeared in his mind. She held a glimmering white rock in one hand and a long stone dagger in the other.

Bring them to me.

The wave of euphoria remained a moment longer. Then, slowly, the sensation faded as the shadows surrounding him slunk back to the corners of his room.

Staring in awe at the stone in his hand, Ben Danielson’s face split open with a wicked smile.

1

In my whole life I never once thought about writing a story. Joshua Thorn was not a student who got gold stars, and I really didn’t care to try. Why do schoolwork when I could be out on my horse or at the creek chasin’ frogs? Grandma Hunt liked to call me Tom Sawyer. I didn’t know who that was, so she explained he was a young, barefoot adventurer who loved mischief. That about summed me up. Well, at least me in my childhood. Hopefully I matured a bit since then.

Okay, I’m actually not even writing this. My handsome brother David is the intelligent one with the skills. He recorded me telling my adventure and got the other parts of the story from Liz and our sister Sarah. But you’ll figure that out soon enough. David is tall, dark, and handsome, has a sexy wife, and lives in Sitka, Alaska, with two adorable children. (For the record, I, Josh, did not say that.)

[Fine Josh, I’ll let you tell your story.]

(Thanks, bro. You’re a peach.)

Anyway, David and I grew up pretty tight in spite of our battles. In some ways it was good we were different. He played football, I loved soccer. He has dark hair and brown eyes; my hair is dirty blond, and my eyes are light blue. He was the choir boy. I did FFA. And when it came to girls? Well, I’ll just say it shocked the entire community when the cutest girl in town fell for him.

[Harsh.]

(But true! You got the girl. Quit whining. Moving on.)

I don’t remember David dating very much before that, and he never talked about girls. Me, I was the boy who teased them till they cried. I think it had something to do with my little sister Sarah and I being close in age. And Mom, don’t believe a word she says. Sarah always deserved what she got, and she usually started it!

I think I was fifteen when I finally began to grow out of my mean britches. Ironically, the experience that shocked me out of adolescence and into the pre-stages of adulthood is also a big part of this crazy story. I’d stolen one of David’s favorite rocks, so he chased me around the house and out to the car. I thought I was safely locked inside until he smashed the passenger window in an attempt to take my life! [This is an exaggeration.] That experience, along with a set of wild dreams the few nights before, cooled my jets … a little.

To my surprise, the girls liked being teased as long as I didn’t push them too far. Sadly, I learned my boundaries one girlfriend at a time. Don’t light their hair on fire: Amber. Don’t tease them about insecure things like weight and body odor: Erin. Don’t laugh at them unless they’re laughing at themselves: Michelle. And don’t lead a girl on with hollow promises for your entire mission only to dear Jane her two weeks before you come home: Samantha. Yeah, David and I weren’t quite the same, but we sure had an awesome childhood together.

Growing up, if David and I weren’t helping Gramps on the farm, we were making swings and building forts. I didn’t realize what a priceless childhood we had until I left Snowflake and went out into the real world. Serving a mission for our church opened my eyes and changed my life in ways I find hard to believe. It wasn’t only a drastic personal course correction; giving my life to the Lord changed who I am. I mean, I think I’ll always have an itch for adventure—that’s what got me into this whole mess in the first place—but the difference now is the reason why I still do stupid things.

I had one month left to finish a two-year proselyting mission for the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints—one month! Life was all smooth sailing and clear skies, and BAM! I get hit by a female tornado.

Oh, she was cute. Her dark-brown hair hung just past her shoulders, and she had deep, penetrating blue eyes—eyes that sparked the memory that ignited the fire that burned all bridges back to life as it once was.

When I saw this girl sitting on a bench on that dock in East Tawas, Michigan, I felt my world begin to unravel. Doom, fate, attraction—I think in this instance it was all mixed together. I should’ve been stronger. The first three months on my mission, I served on the MSU campus. I learned quickly how to avoid dangerous situations with the college girls, but her face … I’d seen it before!

Shaken, I fumbled my way through a greeting and sat next to her. I wasn’t sure how to ask—or even if I should ask—but in the end, I had to know.

Your name is Elizabeth Bracken … isn’t it?

Her mouth dropped open, and in shock I realized the dreams I’d had years earlier were real! I had seen this girl before. In my dreams she went on a wild journey to the center of the earth to save her father. As I followed Liz on her adventure, it seemed as if I were watching a movie, except not only could I see and hear what was going on, I could also sense thoughts and feel emotions.

But when Liz twisted on the bench and demanded how I knew her name, my mind screeched to a halt. It was like the time I dove into my cousin’s swimming pool without checking the water depth. Her fiery eyes stopped me like a cement floor. Struggling to find my bearings, I did the unthinkable as a missionary—I lied.

It wasn’t my fault! There’s no way I was going to tell her I’d been dreaming about her. That seemed like the bigger sin at the moment, and I chose the lesser of two evils.

(Why is it always a choice between evils with girls? What does the scripture say … By their fruits you shall know them?)

[Yes, but sometimes the sweetest fruit is covered with thorns. In that case, you can’t win. Just wear gloves.]

(Great advice, bro. Could’ve used that a few months ago.)

I should’ve taken it as a sign. I should’ve told Liz to go join a different church—or to jump in a Great Lake—but when we started teaching her the gospel, those pretty eyes lit up. Our message was like water to a goldfish stranded in the Sahara Desert. Of all the experiences I had as a missionary, none came close to matching the sweet joy we all felt as Elizabeth embraced God’s plan of happiness with both arms.

It would’ve been fine with me to leave it like that. I could’ve said goodbye, gone home, and went on with my life. Okay, maybe secretly I hoped it wouldn’t end, but looking back now, I think any other path would’ve been less painful than the one we traveled. I thought a mission was hard, but it was a jolly stroll in the park compared to what was coming. You don’t realize how much you have until it’s ripped away from you … or it dies.

Four days before I was to go home, I got a call from Liz. Her father, Ryan, had become very ill, and she asked if Elder Morrey and I would stop by after church the following day and give him a priesthood blessing. Of course, we were happy to help.

Liz didn’t come to church, but we didn’t think much of it. We figured she had stayed with her dad. After our meetings, Elder Morrey and I went to the hospital. To our surprise, Liz wasn’t there. Especially since Ryan looked close to death. We went ahead and blessed him anyway. Using the priesthood, Elder Morrey anointed Ryan’s head with oil, and I sealed the anointing. As with previous experiences, I waited until I felt the still small voice that would direct my words.

Ryan, I bless you to heal quickly, both mind and body; that your understanding of the truths of God may increase, and that you will have strength to save the ones you love.

I closed the prayer and glanced at Elder Morrey. I shrugged at his one raised eyebrow but didn’t know what to say. The blessing rattled me too. I had no idea what it meant.

As we were leaving, a nurse pulled me aside and handed me a small box. Inside, I was shocked to find a white stone and this letter from Liz:

Dear Elder Thorn,

I’m sorry I missed church and stood you guys up. If you’re reading this, then you came to give my dad a blessing anyway, like I hoped you would. Thank you! I know if God wants it to happen, Daddy will be fine. I have a good feeling he’ll recover quickly.

Hopefully, I can explain myself well enough to earn your forgiveness. My life got flipped upside down the week before I met you. I told you Daddy got mauled by a bear and that my cousin Damon and I became lost trying to save him, but that’s not exactly the truth. Perhaps one day I will explain, but now isn’t the right time.

When we met on the dock a few weeks ago, I was lost and unsure what to do next. Words cannot express my gratitude for how God brought you and Elder Morrey into my life. You teaching me the gospel of Jesus Christ—learning I am a daughter of God and He has a plan for me! — was the path I’d been praying to find. I’m eternally grateful for your role in bringing me into the light. Thank you … with all my heart.

The gift of the Holy Ghost is such an amazing thing! I felt flashes of His influence during my crazy journey with Damon, but it was nothing like how I felt last Sunday when you and Elder Morrey baptized and confirmed me a member of God’s true church. I can feel His love and peace now anytime I seek it, and I’ve needed it a lot lately.

My cousin Damon has disappeared. I have a good idea where he went, and he told everyone he’d be fine, but something in my heart tells me he’s in trouble. Not just Damon. I have a dreadful feeling that something bad is about to happen to me, as well. After praying my guts out, I finally received some guidance about what I need to do. I’m going after him.

I don’t know why or how, but because of that still small voice, I’m sure it’s the right thing to do. I’m leaving early this morning, and I’m truly sorry I won’t see you before you go home. Thank you for serving the Lord. You’ve blessed my life in more ways than you know.

You might be wondering why I’ve given you a rock … well, I’m hoping you’ll find out soon why I felt you should have it.

God placed us on the same dock at the same time, and I truly hope our paths cross again someday!

Sincerely,

Elizabeth Bracken

Later that night as I was preparing for bed, I knelt and prayed for God to help me understand what was going on and if there was anything I could do. In my previous dreams I remembered Liz calling her white stone "Airlis", and I admit the stone she left me looked awfully familiar, but it couldn’t have been real … could it?

When no immediate impressions came, I got off my knees and slipped into bed, but as I leaned to shut off the bed lamp, I noticed the box on my nightstand. Redirecting my hand, I opened the lid and pulled out the strange white stone. Rolling the rock over in my hands, I gazed at it blankly as my mind drifted into fantastic scenarios of me rescuing a blue-eyed damsel in distress. Suddenly, my eyes focused, and I jumped in surprise. There it was. A black arrow inside the stone!

As my thoughts struggled to understand what my eyes were seeing, a single word popped into my head: Liahona. (Okay, for you who aren’t familiar with the Book of Mormon yet, the Liahona was a compass-like device God gave a family to help them find their way through the wilderness. Pretty amazing. Go check it out. Back to my story.)

My head spun with excitement, wonder, curiosity, and a thousand questions. I don’t remember falling asleep that night. My thoughts were still wrapped in a knot the next day when I stopped by the hospital to say goodbye to Ryan.

He was sitting in bed watching TV when Elder Morrey and I walked into his room. A healthy color had returned to his face, and his blue eyes were alert and clear.

Hey, maybe he’ll survive after all! I teased.

Ryan smiled at us warmly. Hey, Elders. Yeah, the Doctors said at the rate I was declining, they were preparing for the worst. He reached out to shake our hands with a firm grip. They’re calling it a miracle. He chuckled. I guess that strand of MRSA was pretty rare, especially in the lungs.

Well, we’re glad to hear you whooped it, Elder Morrey exclaimed with a grin.

Yeah, I chuckled, I wondered if I’d get a chance to say goodbye before I headed home.

Ryan’s face grew serious, and he said in a quiet voice, Thank you, Elders … for blessing me. His eyes locked on mine. I remember the words you said, Elder Thorn. For some reason it’s the only clear memory I have of the last few days. That and when Liz told me she was leaving. He looked down.

She told me she was leaving too, I said.

Ryan lifted his head. She did? Did she say where she was going?

A vivid picture of Eden appeared in my mind. I’d been there with her! Well, at least in my dreams … and the thought of Liz trying to find her way back alone? My hands tightened involuntarily. Elizabeth’s letter crackled in my grip. I pulled it from my suit coat pocket and stared at my name in curved handwriting.

Liz wrote me this right before she left. I held out the letter to Ryan. I think you should read it.

Ryan took it eagerly and quickly pulled the page from the envelope. His eyes darted across the paper, and as he neared the bottom, furrows creased his brow.

When he finished, Ryan dropped his hands and shot me a questioning look.

Where’d she go? I don’t understand. Where’s Damon? Why does she think she can help? The worry lines on his face deepened.

Look, Ryan, I’m not really sure, but … I paused, considering how to explain. I think Damon left something behind when he and Liz went to rescue you.

You mean, somewhere around Atlin Lake? Ryan sat forward. But what about the bears? Suddenly he stiffened and his eyes went wide. "The stone … the cave. Slowly his gaze fell to the floor, his mind clearly deep in thought. Then he whispered, A curse?"

Ryan jerked his head up and locked eyes with mine, his face radiating fear.

"We must stop her. We’ve got to help her! He clamped a cold hand on my wrist and squeezed. Those mountains aren’t safe! Please, Elder Thorn, is there anything you can do?" His eyes filled with tears.

My mouth dropped open.

Me? Save Liz?

That’s when I remembered the arrow in